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Loss of Purpose
When I was younger, me and my older brother, Joe, used to have a small band at our school. We both sang, and some other kids and teenagers played instruments. Our family Jackabee pup (although I strongly claimed she was my dog only), Crystal Jr., was the mascot. Too bad that's all gone. Now a days, I'm in the famous pop band, Starlight. Yep, you may have guessed. I'm Crystal, the girl with the "stupid mute brother". You may be thinking, "you said you both sang in your little school band, so your claims are impossible". Yes, but he never used to be mute. Well. Let's just say my brother was never one to admit when something was wrong. When anything was wrong, no matter how serious the problem was. Well, one summer, we were just kinda doing our thing, making plans for our little band when school came back in, and recording random songs we wrote just to show them to friends. One Saturday, Joe woke up with a cold. Of course, nothing was said. I could tell it, though. Even though it obviously wasn't the best idea, we went ahead with our stupid little recordings. Him trying to sing with a cold though... OH GOD. That's probably part of the reason why what happened happened. Judging by his singing voice while sick, that had to of hurt his throat. However, stubborn as always, he literally refused to not do the recording, and eventually just let me do it by myself. Crystal Jr. could tell something was up, and sat by his computer chair all day. Of course, me being the idiot little 10-year-old sister I was, I was angry and practically stole my dog back when I noticed. Him, being a bit short-tempered, said something a bit offensive. Of course, I said something stupid back, and within minutes, we literally were screaming at each other. Joe eventually just stopped yelling and told me to get out. Apparently, for once, he decided to do the smart thing. I left, happy that I was victorious at an argument once and not a bit concerned about the fact that my brother backed down from a fight, something he never did. The next day, Joe wasn't talking much. He didn't eat much breakfast or lunch, and dumped his dinner in the trash. Also, he never said anything about the recording. The day after that, Joe looked visibly worse, and his voice... oh god. It sounded awful. I should have been able to predict what was coming next, but I didn't. That evening, he pulled me aside, looking upset. "W-we can't do those recordings for awhi-awhile, Cry-" "Why not!?" Joe shook his head and locked himself in his room. With my dog, of course. I started shouting from outside the room until he finally opened the door and led my dog out to me. "TAKE THE DOG! T-TAKE IT! SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALO-" His voice gave out. He managed to tell me to get our parents before he stopped talking. When they came, he almost was at the floor, coughing. The doctor confirmed that Joe had laryngitis, but that it should go away within maybe a week. Unfortunately, we thought it was a good idea to record again once Joe had nearly recovered, and therefor reset any progress on his recovery. We were stupid enough to repeat this over and over, until during one of the recordings, Joe collapsed to the floor, coughing violently. I thought he was dying or something. It was awful. I noticed a small amount of blood on his hands and I started screaming. Our parents and the dog ran in. Crystal Jr. started barking frantically while Joe choked on nothing. My parents freaked and dialed 9-1-1. It was ruled that Joe was going to be okay, but he'd never be able to speak again. Later, when school came back in, I found a replacement for him in the band. I had this genius idea to tell him right away and bring the kid with me. Once I told him the full story of that, he looked like he was going to cry right in front of us. I gave him a look that said "don't embarrass me in front of my new friend". He didn't cry right than, but after he came out of class, I heard that he had in class. I started screaming at him and calling him a crybaby. I'm not proud of myself at all, readers. I found a piece of paper in my backpack before I left school. "I'm sorry," it read. I didn't talk to him for a few days. He mostly stayed in his room. After about a week of him not coming out, I finally asked my mom to unlock the door. It turns out he hadn't eaten the whole week, and had only drank enough water to stay alive. Yep, I'm probably the cause of my brother almost starving or dehydrating himself. Later that day, I found a note on the outside of my room door. "I've lost my purpose, enjoy yours." I was pretty shocked, needless to say. I told my parents, and they brushed it off. I went up to Joe's door and yelled to be let in. Joe only opened it and shook his head before locking me out. Every morning, I found notes on the outside of my door. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry." "Let me in." "Let me in." "Let me in." "Never mind." "I hope you don't lose your purpose, too." "I wish you could tell when I was here, but I can't tell you." "It's okay, Crystal. Go with the band." "I hate... myself." Those were just some of the notes on the door. I realized the band was making Joe feel bad about himself. He probably also was being bullied at school. I mean, I never met up with him anymore, and he always looked upset enough to burst into tears when I saw him at home. Before the school year went out, I shut the band down. I stayed at home more. It still didn't help. When I was 19, I joined the band that made me famous. I sing soprano. As for Joe? He translates our songs and other stuff into sign language. So? What do you think? Do you hate me? Oh well, it's fine. Keep your opinions. Anyways, that's the full story. We have our purposes in life, even if we ruin what we thought our original one was. You're a wonderful person just the way you are. Goodbye, and good day. Category:Sad Category:DiopsideDove Category:Kinda happy